Sunday, July 22, 2007

*Disclaimer*: The time stamp here is going to be messed up because I've had this post written for weeks, but I was too busy/lazy to upload the pics. The fact that I'm an ass has been duly noted.-------------------------------------------Would you look at that? I've been back less than a week and I'm updating the site! It's a miracle!

Is my suitcase unpacked? Nope. But a girl's got to prioritize.

Now, let's get right to it!

I'm going to skip over how the exchange rate is now $2.20 to the pound, for fear of bursting blood vessels in my brain. And anyway, as you'll read in a second, that horrible rate is going to be working in my favour in less than 6 months time, so all is right with the world!

So I flew into London on the morning of July 7th (Happy Birthday, Matt!) and it was pretty routine, in that I once again got hassled at immigration by some idiot who thinks I come to England too much -- so something must be shady, right?

After that it got weird. I was at the baggage carousel collecting my worldly possessions and GUESS WHO I SAW AT THE CAROUSEL NEXT TO MINE??

KEANE'S CREW!!

Ha! What the hell are the chances of that? They were coming in from Amsterdam and going to Live Earth that day. I talked to them for a bit and of course did the obligatory "Tell the boys I said hi!" because I'm a nerd. Seriously though. Weirdest thing ever. Sometimes when I'm not even trying to stalk, it just happens! I'm kind of glad the band wasn't with them or I'd have felt the need to explain myself. "No! It really is a coincidence! I had no idea you'd be here!" Haha.

Anyway, Sam and Richie fetched me and before heading home, we made a pit stop in Marlow so Sam could get a new belly button ring and my ridiculously vain self could get a spray tan done at my beloved Sunrise. (What? Have you SEEN how pale I am??). After that we went to the pub where I drank several glasses of champagne. Not off the plane 2 hours and already getting drunk. Yay England!

It was soo good to be back in England but truth be told, by stomach was in knots. For 6 months, I'd been holding in the very exciting and life-changing news that I'm FINALLY going to be moving to there! I don't talk about my past immigration perils on here very often, but anyone that knows me know that I've devoted many years and much manpower to moving to England and have had several proverbial doors slammed in my face. Long story short, there's been a few changes in the immigration system and I finally fit into one of the schemes. It will be all systems go soon, and in approximately 6 more months, I'll be a full-fledged, legal resident of the UK, enjoying the exchange rate (for once) and taking cheap holidays like everyone else! And oh, what a glorious time it will be!!

Anyway, for some reason I was really nervous to tell everyone, which I did that night, and now I can breathe easy, and talk about it freely. Like a lead weight off my shoulders, I tell you!!

To celebrate, I continued to drink my ass off at the pub with Glennie and Mondo, whilst everyone else went to a wedding. I got sufficiently drunk enough to fill Mondo and Glennie in on the benefits of Brazilian waxing, and also to the point where I don't even remember going inside the pub, which we obviously did, according to these pictures.

After I got dropped off (by who, I don't remember) I did managed to fall in Richie and Sam's house, cutting my wrist and cracking myself up in the process. The next thing I remember, it was morning, and time to go to Spain!!!

To save you all from the indignity of having to pretend to have read my ramblings once again, the rest of this post is mostly a pictorial. I'm barely going to break it down into days. Just look at the pictures and enjoy. As they say, a picture is worth a thousand words. So here's about 216,000 words.

The face of an angel.

(Of course I mean that guy in front).

This day was the longest day in the history of Earth, by the way.

This was our villa...

Pre-gaming before heading to the Chinese restaurant...

I love the seriousness of Mondo in this one.

Of course we end up at an Irish pub...

Me and my roomie.

I'm starting already.

The drinks are slightly larger in Spain.

I'm getting sloppy now.

The debauchery continues at home...

Good God.

Late night swimming.

And yet we somehow make it to morning...

Note how I planted my pasty ass over in the shade, where I remained all week.

'Riccardo' at your service. (That's not a flower by the way -- it's a toilet brush)

"You were there!"

¿puedo tomar su orden?

"We don't serve your kind here"

The smoking section.

Rub-a-dub-dub

Thankfully these two don't ever plan on running for public office.

Eat your heart out, Spice Girls.

Puerto Banus...

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Because you need to see three versions of this.

And two of this.

Hijinks at "Jacks American Bar and Grill"...

Never just one drink at a time.

Linekers -- There was a pole there...

See?...

To think how I could have injured him.

Jo is obviously more impressed than Tom.

I think we may have missed our true calling.

Sure. It's all fun and games until someone gets hurt!

The Piano Bar...

This is Francisco.

Sometimes I think I should be muzzled.

Tom looks about as impressed with his kebab as he was with my pole dancing.